


You Wanna Ride My Bike?

by Smooty



Category: Gorillaz
Genre: First Date, First Kiss, Flirting, HanniStu, M/M, Now with Chapter 2!!!, Phase 2, Size Kink, Violence, fluffly
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-06-17
Updated: 2019-08-25
Packaged: 2020-05-13 06:30:37
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 9,456
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19245721
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Smooty/pseuds/Smooty
Summary: Murdoc hadn’t ever said much about his family, mostly referring to them as that old bastard and that cunt Hannibal. Stu didn’t have to courage to ask though, Murdoc was too testy for that. Really he shouldn’t have thought Murdoc was driving all the way to Stoke on Trent just to go record hunting. But 2D had always been a little naive, and as usual, it got him into some strange situations.





	1. Chapter 1

“I told you, you didn’t have to soddin’ come so stop whinin’,” Murdoc growled, accelerating from where they’d stopped at a red light with just a little too much force. 2D winced as he was thrown back into his seat, still pouting. 

“But I wanted t’go to the record shop! And you said you were gonna go…” The car jerked violently into another lane, then skidded to a halt to avoid hitting another car in front. “C-can’t you slow down?”

Murdoc tapped his fingers against the wheel impatiently. “We are gonna go after we pay my shit-stain of a brother a little visit.”  He ignored the request to drive slower, speeding through the intersection and taking a swift left. “He still lives in fuckin’ Stoke, in our dad’s old place, and I don’t want to be drivin’ all day!”

Murdoc hadn’t ever said much about his family, mostly referring to them as  _ that old bastard  _ and that _ cunt Hannibal.  _ Stu didn’t have to courage to ask though, Murdoc was too testy for that. Really he shouldn’t have thought Murdoc was driving all the way to Stoke on Trent just to go record hunting. But 2D had always been a little naive, and as usual, it got him into some strange situations. 

A few more hair-raising turns and one poorly executed U-turn, they arrived at what Stu assumed was Murdoc’s childhood home. The bassist had said something about his dad biting the big one a few years back, and then laughed about how Hannibal still lived in the old codger's run-down council flat. What he could need from his older brother 2D had no idea, but it had to have been important for Murdoc to care about it. 

“Stay in the car,” Murdoc ordered, getting out and slamming the door shut. 2D sighed and rolled his eyes, but listened, propping his knees up on the dash and sinking into his seat. Who knew how long it would take Murdoc to get whatever it was he wanted? And it wasn’t like there was anything in here to keep him occupied. Within just a few minutes 2D was already bored out of his skull and playing with the door handle. 

Would it be so ad if he got out, just to stretch his legs? Surely Murdoc couldn’t get mad at him for that? 2D popped the door open slowly, watching the front door Murdoc had gone through for any sign of movement. Carefully he stepped out onto the chipped and cracked drive, stretching his hands into the air and popping his spine. The drive hadn’t been  _ that _ long, but Stu never did fit very well into Murdoc’s car. He did a few paces of the driveway, noting the patchy, dead lawn and the general disrepair of the house. Stashed down the side was what looked like a motorcycle covered in a sheet, and 2D desperately wanted to take a peak. But he was too scared of Murdoc coming out to find him, so instead, he sat on the front step and pulled out a fag, endeavouring to smoke a few before returning to the cramped car. 

3 cigarettes later, he was still sitting out there alone and he was starting to get antsy. What if Murdoc’s brother was a really bad guy, even worse than Murdoc himself? The bassist could be in trouble or _causing_ trouble. The last thing they needed was Murdoc doing more prison time, after that time in Mexico. Stubbing out his last fag 2D stood on shaking legs in front of the door, hand raised to knock. Should he even knock, if he was worried about what was going on inside? Careful not to make a sound he tested the handle and found it unlocked. 

“M-Murdoc,” he whispered through the smallest crack in the door he could manage. Inside he could hear voices, not shouting but not quiet either. One of them was definitely Murdoc, but the other he didn’t recognize. “H-hello?”

He opened the door wider and stepped inside, his hands up under his chin with anxiety. The house was in a sorry state, cracks in the walls and loose floorboards everywhere. But someone had obviously made an effort to keep things clean, or cleaner that Kong was at least. Though that wasn’t saying much. Stu took a few steps into the hall, letting the door shut behind him. The voices were quiet now, and that made him nervous. 

“Murdoc?” he called again, creeping forward to look into the first room. It was a tiny, sparsely furnished living room. No one was around, so he moved on to the next room, the one at the end of the hall where he’d heard the voices. Poking his head into the doorway cautiously, he scoped out the seemingly empty room. Where had everyone gone, 2D swore he’d heard shouting less than five minutes ago. 

“Can I help you?” A rough voice asked from directly behind him. The singer yelped, throwing up his hands and jerking away from the voice. “Woah, didn’t mean to scare you that bad.”

“W-w-w-what?” 2D stuttered, taking a few steps back. “Who’re y-you?” He kept walking backward and away. The voice belonged to a man who was leaning casually in the doorway. The green skin and heavy features made it obvious this was Murdoc’s brother, and 2D trembled where he stood, suddenly realizing he was trespassing in the house of someone who could be even worse than the bassist.

“You must be that kid Murdoc’s been dragging around and forcing to sing his little songs,” the man laughed, digging through his pockets and pulling out a packet of Lucky Lungs. “I assume you know who I am?”

2D nodded, eyeing the other and trying desperately to think of an escape route. “Y-you’re his brother, yeah?” He edged backward until his back bumped into the counter.

“Surprised the fuckin’ prick even mentioned me. He always was an ungrateful brat.” 2D tittered a nervous laugh as the other took a few steps into the room. He suddenly realized that Murdoc’s brother was tall,  _ very tall. _ How had the bassist turned out so short if his brother looked like this? He looked strong too, not like a bodybuilder but like someone who did physical labour on the daily. 2D couldn’t help but let his eyes linger a second too long.

“I-I’m sorry for comin’ in here. Murdoc s-said to wait in the car but I--” Hannibal laughed shaking his head.

“He was gonna make you wait in the car this whole time? Shit, he could be here for hours goin’ through Dad’s old stuff, you woulda died of heat stroke.”

“O-oh.” What else was he supposed to say? Murdoc hadn’t even cracked a window for him like you would a dog. Not that he should have expected better.

Hannibal seemed to sense his downturn in mood, and offered one of the cigarets in his pack to the singer. “Yeah, he always was kind of a total cunt. Smoke?”

2D took one eagerly and pulled out his own lighter. “I always figured he was jus’ born an asshole,” he muttered. Hannibal laughed loudly again, crossing his arms over his chest. 2D gulped as he watched the muscles in the other’s arms bunch and twist.

“He really was. Fuckin’ dick didn’t stop crying for the first three years of his life, then he turned into a complete arse.” 2D laughed as well, completely enchanted by the idea of a young Murdoc getting in trouble and being a brat. “So what’s your name then, Murdoc never did bother tellin’ me.”

“Stuart, o-or 2D. I go by 2D for the band.” He was still nervous, even though so far Hannibal hadn’t been anywhere near as scary as Murdoc. Something told him he should still be wary though, there was a sharpness in Hannibals eyes that was reminiscent of his bandmate. 

“Stuart then, nice to finally meet you,” Hannibal said, extending his hand. Stu fumbled with his fag before doing the same, admiring the other’s firm handshake. It wasn’t often he met someone taller than him, being 6”2’himself. It was kind of… exciting. 

“Same. You’re, uh, different than I though’ you’d be,” he admitted, scratching the back of his head awkwardly.  He’d been expecting someone exactly like Murdoc, someone who would hit him and call him names. Instead, he’d been offered a cigarette and told an embarrassing tidbit about the bassist’s past. 

“You were probably expecting another Murdoc, right?” Hannibal asked, walking to the fridge and pulling out a couple of beers. He set them on the table and motioned for 2D to sit. The singer did, rolling the beer can between his hands.

“Kind of. He said you were a-a--” Again he stuttered, worried about upsetting the admittedly intimidating man. Hannibal just grinned, showing off sharp teeth. 

“A cunt? A bastard? My baby brother needs to get more creative with his names if he expects them to get a rise outta me.” 2D decided he liked Hannibal a lot more than Murdoc. “Anyway, while he’s up in Dad’s old room looking for God-knows-what you can stay in here if you want.”

“Thanks,” 2D said gratefully, taking a sip of his bear. “D’you know what he’s lookin’ for?”

Hannibal shook his head. “Not a bloody clue, he didn’t tell me shit. He didn’t say anythin’ to you?”

“No, he didn’t even wan’ me to come,” he admitted sheepishly. “I probably shoulda jus’ stayed back at Kong with Noodle and Russel but I was so bored.”

Hannibal leaned his chin on a fist, watching the singer speak. Unlike with other people, Stu felt like the other man might actually be listening to him, and interested in what he had to say. 

“So I-I came with him, ‘cause he said he was goin’ to the record store after.” 2D fidgeted in his seat slightly, tapping his fingers against the tabletop. “I was gonna get a couple’a new records, for my collection. But if this is gonna take hours like you said then I don’t think we’re gonna go…”

“I could take you, if you want,” Hannibal offered, still sipping his beer. “We’d have to go on my bike but…”

Despite still being wary, 2D felt himself begin to get excited. He’d always wanted to drive a motorcycle, but riding one sounded pretty good too. And getting to hold onto Hannibal’s waist and feeling those muscles up close, that sounded amazing. 

“Really? But won’ Murdoc get mad?” he asked nervously. He really wanted to go to the record store, and Hannibal didn’t seem so bad, but he was scared of what Murdoc might do if he left. The bassist was possessive of anything he deemed “his”, including 2D himself.

“I can handle Murdoc. Managed for nearly 16 years to keep that little bugger from landing a solid punch on me,” Hannibal boasted, standing up from the table. “Come on, there’s a good record store in town we can go to.”

“O-Ok!” Stu abandoned his beer and followed the taller man outside and around the side of the house. Hannibal pulled the cover off the bike and went to move it so Stu could get on. It wasn’t anything too flashy, but it was still cooler than anything Stuart had ever own. Bright red with black leather, a little scuffed but lovingly repaired and maintained. “Oh wow.”

“Ok, hop on back,” Hannibal instructed, swinging one long leg over and getting comfortable. Something squirmed in Stu’s belly at the sight of Hannibal straddling the seat. But he didn’t have time to think about it, because he was getting on himself, pressing close to the older man’s leather jacket covered back. Hannibal was warm, even in the Summer heat. “Ready? Hold on tight.”

As they sped down the driveway, Stuart did just that. Reckless driving must have been a Niccals family trait because Hannibal drove like they were being chased by the cops. 2D could barely enjoy the scenery, but he had a sneaking suspicion he wouldn’t have been able to anyway, with the way Hannibal's muscles felt under his hands. They arrived at the high street quickly and Hanibal pulled a dangerous U-turn to park in front of a record store. 

“Here, this is the best place in town,” Hannibal said, turning the bike off. He got off in one smooth motion, the heels of his combat boots barely scraping against the asphalt. Stu tried to dismount just as gracefully, but his gangly legs caught on the side and he began to tumble face first. 

“Shi--” he started, bringing his hands up to protect his face from the worst of the scrapes that were coming. But the pain never came, because just before he hit the pavement a pair of strong arms caught him around the middle and hauled him upright. 

“Woah there, careful now love.” 2D’s face began to heat up rapidly as he was pulling in close to Hannibal's chest. “Not the most graceful, are you?”

“S-sorry!” Stu said, looking away. Hannibal’s eyes were a deep hazel, with the most amazing flecks of gold. 2D looked down and wondered what his lips would feel like on his own because from this close up they looked soft and inviting. “I-I--”

Hannibal chuckled and stepped back, keeping a hand on 2D’s shoulder to steady him. “Don’t worry, I lift things heavier than you on the daily.”

As if that made it any better. The singer felt like his face was on fire from how hard he was blushing. “Is that t-the record s-store?” Maybe if he changed the subject he could get a second to cool himself off. 

“It is, come on I’ll introduce you to the owner.”

“You know the  _ owner _ ?” His embarrassment forgotten, 2D began to feel excitement again. Hannibal laughed--he seemed to do that a lot--and held the door open for him. 

“Yeah, me and Doc used to come here all the time as kids. The owner’s still the same guy. But don’t mention Murdoc to him, punk owes him over a hundred quid in stolen records.” 2D giggled and nodded, walking inside the shop, eager to pick out some new vinal. 

They wandered around the shop for a few hours. Hannibal made good on his promise to introduce 2D to the owner, and the man turned out to be a Gorillaz fan. Hannibal also showed Stu one of the back rooms where the owner did record player repairs. The singer was in heaven, looking at all the old machines. Hannibal hung back, for the most part, watching 2D fawn over the machines and talk shop with the owner. Eventually, he tore himself away from the back room long enough to peruse the vinal, a few of which Hannibal pointed out to him as being his favourites. 

Hours passed in the blink of an eye and Stu didn’t realize it until he felt his mobile vibrating in his pocket. The caller ID made his heart sink. 

“It’s Murdoc,” he said, happy demeanour dropping immediately. “Oh God we’ve been gone for hours and--”

“Give me the phone,” Hannibal said, his hand outstretched. Stu hesitated for just a second, but he really didn’t want to deal with Murdoc so he did as he was asked. The second Hannibal answered the call, the bassist’s angry voice could be heard over the speaker. 

“--uckin’ hours Stuart! I told you to say in the soddin’ car and now you and that bloody--”

“Hey Doc, it’s me,” Hannibal said, demeanour completely calm. “Stu and I just popped down to that record store on Main, you know the one.”

“Hannibal? Why do you have his phone?” 2D could feel his anxiety rising at the angry tone. He rocked up on his heels and looked around nervously, something Hannibal didn’t miss. 

“None of your business. Did you find what you were looking for?” Murdoc’s voice was quieter now and 2D couldn’t hear what he said but Hannibal seemed to understand. “Good. We’ll be back in a few so don’t get your panties in a bunch. Yeah, fuck you too.”

He handed the cellphone back to Stu with a grimace. “He’s gotten even surlier than I remembered. You ready to go?” 2D nodded silently and went to pay for his records. The shop owner tried to give him a discount but he refused, being rich and all now. Sullenly, he followed Hannibal back out to the bike and they drove off, the good mood from earlier completely gone. 

When they arrived back at Hannibal's flat Murdoc was sitting on the front step smoking. His head snapped up when the bike came into view and 2D could tell he was still fuming mad. The singer could already feel the back of his head tingling where Murdoc usually slapped him. 

“Took you bloody long enough!” He screamed, standing up and stalking over to them. Hannibal dismounted and stood tall, with his arms crossed. “Where the fuck were you?”

“I told you, we went to the record shop. Didn’t think you’d care,” he explained, letting Murdoc get right up in his face without even flinching. “You need to calm down, Doc. And your breath stinks.”

2D watched in awe as Murdoc deflated in the face of Hannibal’s indifference. “We’re busy people Han, you can’t jus’ wander of with my singer!”

“We were a few minutes down the road, calm the fuck down,” Hannibal said, rolling his eyes. 2D stood next to him, their arms nearly brushing. He’d never seen Murdoc act that way with anyone, he was definitely impressed. 

“Whatever. 2D, get in the car. We’re leavin’.” Murdoc stomped off, slamming the driver side door with significant force. Stu watched him, then turned back to Hannibal.

“Well, nice meetin’ you,” he said lamely, mentally cursing himself. It was so much easier with the birds who liked him because he was famous. 

Hannibal nodded and extended a hand, shaking 2D’s firmly, but not so much as to hurt him. “It was nice to mee you to, Stu. I hope I can see you again some time.”

2D was saved the embarrassment of stammering out a reply by Murdoc honking the horn forcefully. Instead, he scampered away and into the car. Waving the Hannibal from the window. The other waved back slightly, leaning up against his bike and watching them peel off the road. As they turned out of sight, 2D looked down into his lap, smiling. 

“Oi, what’re you smilin’ at then?” Murdoc snapped, reaching over and giving 2D a whack on the back of the head. The singer jolted forward, his hands going up to shield himself, his phone flying out of his pocket. When Murdoc didn’t hit him again, he reached out for his phone and settled back in the seat. 

“Nothin’,” he mumbled, noticing there was a text on his phone.  _ Sorry for my brother’s bad behaviour, it runs in the family. _ With a big smile, he typed back  _ A little bad behaviour can be good, sometimes. _ “Nothin’ at all.”


	2. Chapter 2

He was wearing a button-down shirt. That alone should have been enough to signal the anxiety and trepidation running through him. 

“Noodle!” he called over his shoulder and out his bedroom door. He hoped she was still around because he just couldn’t get these buttons done and he couldn’t just wear the t-shirt he had on underneath. Not for their first date.

“I already told you that shirt is fine D,” the teenager sighed, her head popping around the corner. Stu spun around, his hands worrying the fabric of the button-down and wrinkling it. 

“It’s not that, I can’t get th’buttons righ’,” he whimpered, looking completely pitiful. He knew Noodle would take pity on him and do them for him if he fussed enough. As expected she rolled her eyes but helped him, going the extra mile and smoothing out the wrinkles.

“Are you sure this is a good idea 2D? If Murdoc finds out…” He’d confided in her the same night Hannibal had asked him out over text. Since that initial meeting, they hadn’t seen each other but the older was surprisingly open to texting, and--much to Stu’s pleasure and embarrassment--late-night phone calls. The singer felt like he was back in high school.

“No, but I’m gonna do it anyway,” he answered with a big, dumb smile on his face. “Besides, it migh’ be kinda funny if he does. Can you imagine how pissed he’d be?”

“Yes,” Noodle said darkly. 2D didn’t let it bother him though, because for once, he thought things might be turning out his way. 

“Don’t worry about, ok poppet? If he asks where I am jus’ tell him I went to my parent’s or somthin’.” Noodle nodded, a small, sad smile on her face. She straightened his collar one last time, wished him well, and left the room, leaving Stu alone in the mirror again. 

“I look… good,” he tried, straightening up his back and look cockily into the mirror. Remembering back to the girls he’d met when the band was on break and how’d he’d charmed them, he smiled. “You can do this!”

* * *

 

He couldn’t do this. 

It was a bit of a drive to Stoke, and Stu was a little rusty since Murdoc had stolen the wheels off his car for the Winne for the last three months, but it was kind of like riding a bike. Only the bike was a few tonnes of metal screaming down the highway surrounded by similarly dangerous machines on all sides. By the time he got to the house, his teeth were chattering with anxiety and his nails dug into the leather of the steering wheel. 

He didn’t even get a second to himself, because as soon as he pulled up he saw Hannibal in the drive, working on his bike. With no shirt. He  _ really _ couldn’t do this. But he was already putting the car into park and getting out, his feet taking him up the driveway automatically. 

“H-hey!” Oh God he really should have cleared his throat in the car before trying to speak because what came out was garbled and squeaky. Colour began to gather in his cheeks and Noodle was right, this had been a bad idea. 

Hannibal set down the cloth he was using to wipe the bike’s tires and stood. Somehow, 2D had forgotten just how tall he was. “Hey Stu, guess I lost track of time. Why don’t you come in while I get cleaned up and then we can go?”

2D scratched the back of his head awkwardly but nodded. “I migh’ be early, my sense of time is terrible.”

As they walked to the door Hannibal checked his watch. It was an old, tarnished thing that didn’t really suit him. “Nah, you’re right on time. I can get kinda lost in my projects.”

“It’s fine!” Was his voice always this pitchy? “I don’t mind waitin’ for a bit.” 

Hannibal led them to the kitchen, which looked about the same as the last time he’d been there. “Good. Give me 20 minutes. And help yourself to anythin’.” With that Hannibal left him alone, and 2D could finally breathe.

Their entire exchange had been awkward because of the singer. He’d been so much more confident on the phone and through text. But in person, he kept getting all jittery and dumb. He hoped Hannibal wasn’t too disappointed, that he wouldn’t get mad that 2D was different in person. Though he didn’t seem like the type to get pissed, he  _ was _ related to Murdoc. Just because he was charming didn’t mean he wasn’t dangerous. 

20 minutes passed slowly. 2D got a glass of water and poked around a few cabinets. No serial killer knives, or dead bodies in the fridge. He fiddled around on his phone but the signal was terrible, so he ended up faffing about with some matching game. Boredom began to set in and he began to tap his feet against the floor to the beat of some of their new songs. Then he started to hum. By the time Hannibal came back Stu was so wrapped up in humming old and new clips of songs, he was far beyond hearing the other man enter. 

“You do have a nice set of pipes on you dontcha?” Hannibal said. 2D startled badly, his voice cutting off with a wheeze and his hands flailing up. It wasn’t like Stu was  _ shy _ about singing but to have the guy he was supposed to be going on a date with listening to him singing like  _ that _ ? His face couldn’t get any redder. 

“I--do you wanna go?” Stu asked after much stuttering. Luckily Hannibal didn’t seem to have Murdoc’s impatient streak, and he waited silently until the singer got the question out. 

“Yeah, it’s another hour from here and we’re already late ‘cause of me. D’you wanna take your car or the bike?” He truly seemed to want 2D’s opinion, which was a little off-putting. At least he knew his answer easily. 

“Uh, the bike? I’m not really much for drivin’...” Honestly, it had given him a little bit of a headache. Not the type that would have him curl up in a dark room, but it was enough to make his eyes squint. He’d deal with Hannibal’s crazy driving if it meant he didn’t have to actually drive. 

“I was hoping you’d say that, actually.” Hannibal grinned, sharp and a little hungry. That smile did things to 2D, both in his chest and his trousers. He was in deep. “You think you can handle a whole hour?”

A whole hour wrapped around those muscles? Stu could think of nothing better. “I think so, uh, should I be worried?”

Hannibal shook his head and laughed, his wet hair dripping onto his grey t-shirt. “No, you’ll be fine Stu. Jus’ hold on tight yeah?”

2D tried not to combust as he followed the other back outside. Were those  _ leather pants? _ He suddenly felt like he wasn’t dressed appropriately in his button-down and jeans. “Where are we goin’? You never did say.”

“The weather’s been nice,” Hannibal explained, straddling the bike, “and I thought we could go up to the South Pier in Blackpool. Hope you like carnivals.”

Stu’s face lit up. “I love carnivals! Used to work the dodge-ems at my dad's back in high school,” he gushed, clambering up on the back and wrapping his arms around Hannibal’s waist. Oof, he had  _ abs _ . 

“Well isn’t that lucky. Jus’ shout if you need anything.” Hannibal grinned again and they were off, tearing down the road towards the M6. 

Honestly, it wasn’t so bad after the first few hair-raising turns. Hannibal didn’t weave in and out of traffic too much, and he only went  _ kind-of _ over the speed limit. Going so fast, rushing around other people, it was all a little bit exciting. 

After an hour and a bit, in which Stu tried to focus on the scenery and not the vibrations of the seat under him and the strong back at his front, they arrived. He hadn’t been to Blackpool in years, not since he was a teen. It was busy and crowded but none of that mattered as they were zooming down the street. Hannibal seemed to know where he was going, and quite quickly Stu could smell the ocean air and hear the seagulls. The bike slowed to a meandering pace before they parked in a spot 2D wasn’t sure was actually a parking spot but oh well.

“Well, here we are,” Hannibal said, getting off the bike with practised ease. He immediately turned around and offered a hand to 2D, probably remember what a klutz the singer was. 

“T-thanks,” Stu stuttered, feeling his cheeks go warm. Hannibal was acting the perfect gentleman, but something still told him to be wary. There was a desire behind those brown eyes, something darker. It made the singer shudder. 

“Don’t want you busting up your pretty face now do we?” Hannibal teased, not letting go of his hand. “I thought we could walk around, cause some havoc, you know.”

The hand holding was making Stu want to titter like a schoolboy. It had been quite some time since someone took the lead on a date with him. Being famous led people to have… certain assumptions about him a lot of the time. 

“I could show you how t’cheat at the cup and ball booth,” 2D offered with a grin of his own. He knew all the tricks of the trade from the people who worked his dad’s carnival. 

“Oh well, I’d love to see that. Lead on then.” Hannibal gestured forward and let 2D lead them towards the pier. It was a weird feeling, his hand being dwarfed by another but not one Stuart hated. He pulled them through the crowds--which parted easily for the two extremely tall and strange-looking men--towards the games with laser-like precision. 

They spent hours mucking around and generally frustrating the carnies. Stu showed Hannibal how to cheat at quite a few of the games and net them an impressive array of colourfull necklaces, free cotton candy, and small stuffed animals. It turned out they worked quite well together as a team, what with 2D’s knowledge and Hannibal’s good aim. Not to mention, the larger man’s willingness to listen to Stu ramble about whatever came to his mind between stalls. 

“--and that’s how Murdoc knocked out both of m’eyes and made me into the frontman for Gorillaz.” He’d been talking for at least 15 minutes while they searched around for some food that wasn’t meat (for Stu) and wasn’t drenched in oil (for Hannibal). 

“Yeah that sounds like Doc. He really just rammed into your head with his car twice?” The taller adjusted his grip on the ugly blue teddybear 2D had won. “I mean, he didn’t learn after the first time?”

“Guess not. And to be fair the second time I went through the windscreen and it was the pavement that did the trick.” Stu shrugged. He’d told the story so many times it didn’t really affect him much despite it being one of the most important events in his life. 

“Jesus,” Hannibal huffed. He gave Stu’s hand a little squeeze as he led them towards some promising food stalls. “Remind me to break his stupid nose again next time I see him yeah?”

“Russel already took care of that, but I won’t say no…” It was nice thinking Hannibal was upset  _ for  _ him. Most people laughed it off or chalked it up to one of Murdoc’s crazy adventures. “Hey are those pretzels?”

The lineup for the salty dough snacks was short and soon they both had another thing to balance along with their other spoils. 2D watched as Hannibal tried to figure out how to hold the plush, food, and his hand all at the same time with a small smile. 

“Why don’t we go find a table?” Stu asked. Hannibal nodded, looking relieved and they wandered over to one of the nearby picnic benches to dump their stuff. Sitting down meant they had to finally let go of each other's hands, which wasn’t the worst thing as Stu was beginning to worry about his sweaty palms. 

“So,” Hannibal started through a mouthful of pretzel, “tell me somethin’ about yourself that’s not all that crazy Hollywood shit.”

“Uhh, like what?” 

‘What’d you wanna be when you were a kid?” Stu had to think really hard for a minute, so hard that he didn’t notice Hannibal watching him with that look again. 

“I think I wanted t’be a policeman for a little while, ‘cause I liked their hats. But then I found out you had to pass a bunch of tests. So I decided I wanted to be a football star but I was complete rubbish,” he said, shoving dough in his mouth. “Don’t think I ever imagined I’d be a singer in a band.”

“Well I never imagined I’d be anythin’ but a deadbeat,” Hannibal laughed and Stu laughed with him. At least until he realized that might have been rude. 

“O-oh I--” he sputtered, panic evident in the way he tensed. His hands came up to his chest and clutched at the buttons of his shirt: close to his face in case this was the thing that sent Hannibal over the edge. But again, the other man just shrugged and chuckled good-naturedly. 

“Calm down, I’m not gonna freak out on you! Besides, I  _ was _ a deadbeat. Did my time in prison, got out, did more time, and now I’m here,” Hannibal explained casually. “Figured out that being a total wanker wasn’t the way to get on in life, so I cut that shit out.”

“W-what do you do for work?” 2D asked. The man in front of him was a complete surprise even though they’d been talking for weeks. Most of those texts had been silly little things like stupid pictures, flirty one-liners, and random thoughts. The kind of things that help you get to know someone without  _ really _ getting to know them. So the fact that Hannibal was so… level-headed was not something Stu expected from a Niccals.

“I’m a mechanic, cars and bikes mostly. Been doing that for… 10 years?” 2D tried to do that math in his head but all the vehicular trauma made that a little bit difficult. So he decided to ask. 

“How old are you, I mean, you’re Murdoc’s older brother so….” Hannibal didn’t look  _ that _ old but neither did Murdoc. Except when he was up really early in the morning and hadn’t had time to “put his face on”. 

“47.”

“WHAT?” 2D shouted, dropping the last bite of his pretzel onto the dirty tabletop. “I-I’m only 26.”

Hannibal shrugged and balled together his own trash, flinging it towards the trash can. It didn’t make it in. “S’that a problem for you? I missed out on a lot of my 20’s, bein’ in prison and all.”

“No! S’not a problem!” 2D assured him. It might be a little unorthodox but who really gave a shit? He was famous and rich and he could do whatever he wanted. Which was to say, he thought Hannibal was really,  _ really _ hot and didn’t care about the age difference. “Guess we should go do somethin’ else eh?”

“Feel like walking the pier?” Hannibal asked. He had some trouble getting off of the picnic table seat, due to his incredibly long legs. 2D stood to the side and wondered if he should offer a hand, but he was too shy. 

“Yeah, that sounds nice. S’getting late anyway.” The sun wasn’t quite setting, but everything was getting that dreamy sun-down glow. The lighting actually bothered Stu’s eyes, something about the time of day and the low light made him squint. But he could live with it if it meant getting to spend more time with Hannibal on their date. 

They walked side by side down the pier, occasionally bumping shoulders. Hannibal was telling a story about a man who had come into the shop with all four tyres deflated and laughing uproariously. It was a little out of 2D’s wheelhouse--mostly since he avoided driving since the accidents--but he laughed along as well, caught up in the way Hannibal laughed so loudly and without self-consciousness. He didn’t even seem to care people were staring. 

“Hmm, look at that.” Hannibal pointed over the railing towards the sunset. They stopped to lean over the edge, side by side. It was beautiful, a little bright for Stu’s eyes but he could appreciate it all the same. 

“It’s nice,” he said because words--outside of songwriting--weren’t really his thing. “Reminds me of that time Murdoc set the graveyard on fire. Before the fire department came out.”

“He really is a piece of work. Don’t necessarily blame him for how he turned out but…” Hannibal kept his gaze on the sunset. “He’s stuck, you know? That’s kinda what made me want to change. Saw him in an interview and jus’ thought ‘shit, I don’t wanna be like that’.”

2D tore his gaze away from the sunset to admire Hannibal’s profile. The soft light made him seem younger than he was. “You’re not like him, really. I was scared you migh’ be but you’re a really nice person, Han.”

Hannibal grinned. “Well aren’t you a sweet-talker Stu-Pot. S’that how you get all the ladies?” 2D felt his face heat up at the nickname. Of course, that was the moment the older man turned away from the horizon to look at Stu. There was no way for him to cover up the blush. “And is that flush how you get all the guys?”

“Stop it!” 2D whined, though he really didn’t mean it. “Has anyone ever told you you’re kind of a flirt?”

Hannibal threw his head back with a loud, surprised laugh. “Spunky. I like that.” He took a step over so they were very,  _ very _ close, handing brushing. “Knew I’d like you from the first time you broke into my house and smoked in my kitchen.”

“Didn’t break in…” Stu mumbled, too busy watching the way the small wrinkles at the corners of his mouth twisted when he smiled. “You left the bloody door unlocked.”

Hannibal leaned down. “Are you complaining?” 2D took a chance--though really, they’d been dancing around it all day--and wound his fingers around the other man’s belt loops. 

“M’gonna be, if you don’t kiss me soon,” he teased, flicking his eyes up briefly took catch the look of want that flit through Hannibal’s. There was a beat, then Hannibal closed the gap, kissing Stu with unexpected fervour. 2D tried to give back as good as he was getting, but he wasn’t used to being the shorter of two partners and was finding the novelty extremely exciting. It was all he could do to pull Hannibal closer, their bodies attacked from hip to chest. And that was all before Hannibal slipped his tongue past the singer’s lips. 

“Oh--” Stuart moaned, parting his lips to give Hannibal more access. Behind them, the sun had completely set and the stars were starting to show through the clouds. Their kiss, while intense and very enjoyable remained relatively chaste--at least by 2D’s standards. Shyly, tentatively, the singer rolled his hips forward into his partners. Just a tiny bit, to see how Hannibal would react. He was not disappointed. 

Hannibal  _ growled _ . It sent shivers up Stu’s back and down his front to his prick. Unfortunately, Hannibal also pulled away, using his grip on Stu’s hips to keep him from following. “As much as I’d like to continue this I don’t think the pier is the place to have this… conversation.” 

As if he’d been in a trance, 2D snapped out of it and looked around. There weren’t  _ too many _ people out, but the area wasn’t empty and they were getting a few funny looks. And a few interested ones. Normally he liked the attention--he was the frontman of Gorillaz after all--but this was a little more personal than he’d usually like to share. 

“O-oh, yeah. You’re righ’, do you wanna get out of here?” Stuart asked, also not stepped away. He did remove his hands from Hannibal’s trousers though. 

“Don’t know about you but I’m gonna need a minute before hopping back on the bike.” He nodded down to where their hips were still pressed together. Both of them were obviously hard. 2D’s blush deepened. 

“We could get a hotel room. I’m not tryin’ to brag but I’ve got the money and you paid for lunch so…”

“A whole hotel room’s a bit more than some pretzels, but I won’t say no. Not if it means I get to get into your trousers sooner.” With a move slick as oil Hannibal gave 2D’s ass a quick, covert grope before stepping back. Stu yipped in surprise and jumped back as well. “Let’s go find one, then?”

They walked back to the bike to make sure they were parked somewhere where it wouldn’t be towed, and then entered the nearest hotel. It was some fancy one with a view of the sea. Hannibal made some cursory protests about the costs but went quiet when 2D stuck out his bottom lip in a dramatic pout. The concierge also informed them that the next closest hotel was a 15-minute walk. So that settled it. 

Thanks to Stuart's celebrity status they got a pretty fancy room without much fuss. The hotel even offered to send a driver to pick up Hannibal’s bike and store it in their secure garage, but the mechanic refused. Within 10 minutes of entering the hotel, they were already on their way up the lift to their room. 

“That was quick,” Hannibal commented as the lift doors closed. He was standing with his arms crossed, leaning against the right-hand wall. 2D faced forward, though he was eyeing the older sneakily. His eyes did have some advantages. 

“S’a perk of being famous. I don’t like to abuse it too much but it’s pretty fun once and a while.” The lift dinged at the 22nd floor and when they exited Hannibal placed a hand low on 2D’s back, urging him out the door. Stu let himself be led down the hall to their room, one of only 4. After tapping the keycard to the door they rushed inside, practically tripping over each other. 

“Bed,” Hannibal said, tightening his grip on Stu’s lower back, his large hands just barely brushing the waistband of his pants. The hotel room was opulent, with a huge sitting room that branched into a multitude of other rooms they had no use for. Well, maybe the bathroom, after the bedroom. The room listing has boasted a large jacuzzi tub. 

Stu walked as quickly as his shaking legs could carry him. He’d been thinking about this since the first day they’d me. Since the first time he’d gotten a good look at Hannibal’s strong arms and muscled shoulders. There had been more than one occasion on which he’d thought about those things late at night, or in the shower, or really any time he was alone. He’d thought Hannibal might be interested too, but it had been hard to know for sure. It wasn’t hard now, or it  _ was _ but not in the same way. 

They stumbled into the bedroom, which was equally massive and unnecessarily furnished. They made a bee-line for the bed, 2D reaching it first and plopping down ungracefully. Seated he had to crane his neck up at an uncomfortable angle to make eye contact. Luckily, he wasn’t that interested in looking up when he was now at crotch level with the other. 

“D’you mind if I…?” Stu ran shaky fingers over Hannibal’s thighs and up to the button of his trousers. A glance upwards told him Hannibal was smirking, previously hidden sharp canines making their existence known. 

“I’d love you to,” he purred, one hand coming to stroke 2D’s hair. Not pressuring him, but just touching, admiring. Emboldened by the express permission Stuart popped Hannibal's button and nosed at the skin he exposed there while running his hands underneath the other’s shirt. Oh God  _ the muscles _ he felt on Hannibal’s stomach made his cock twitch. But that would have to wait, because Stu really, really wanted to show Hannibal how much he appreciated the excellent date he’d planned. 

“I wanna suck you off…” he hummed, mouthing over his trousers and cotton briefs. Another rumble from Hannibal as he tugged his own bottoms down, not even bothering to step out of them as 2D gawked. “Holy shit! Uh--”

Hannibal looked both pleased and a little bit sheepish. “I know it’s a little big if that’s a problem…”

“No! No, s’not a problem. I uh--” How was he supposed to think when he was mere inches from the biggest, most delicious prick he'd ever seen. Immediately he was thinking about what it would feel like in his mouth, in his hand, in his arse. “I like it.”

There was a light tint of red on Hannibal’s neck and ears that 2D found extremely adorable. “Well, be my guest then, songbird.”

Instead of focusing on the nickname--because holy _shit_ \--Stu focused on getting the read of Hannibal’s cock in his mouth. It was a tight fit, but he managed it with a little effort, the head feeling heavy and warm on his tongue. Hannibal was silent but Stu could see his eyebrows drawing together in concentration. _He_ _had done that._

There was no way he was going to get the entire thing in his mouth, so he settled for as much as he could and used his hands for the rest. There was no way to stop the drool pooling under his tongue from running down his face, so he didn’t try. Hannibal went deadly still under him.

“Everything OK?” he asked, pulling back and using his fist to slick the entirely of Hannibal’s cock with his spit. He could barely get his whole hand around the thing,  _ Jesus Christ. _

“More than OK, kid. You keep doing that and we won’t make it to the main event.” Hannibal pulled him up so he was standing, then led them back to the bed. “You’re quite a catch.”

“You’re jus’ sayin’ that,” 2D mumbled as he let himself be rearranged on the bed. Hannibal loomed over him, completely covering Stu’s body with his own and wasn’t that a new sensation? 2D wriggled against the bedsheets, trying to get comfortable while Hannibal watched with a hungry look. 

“I am not. I’ve been thinkin’ about this, wanted to bend you over the counter and fuck you right there in my kitchen when we met,” Hannibal groaned, burying his face in 2D’s neck and leaving sucking kisses. “When you held onto me on my bike on the way to the record store I could feel you and I wanted to take you apart right then; stuff you fuller than you’ve ever been, make you feel it.”

“Please!” Stu moaned, arching into the older man to get more contact. “I though’ about it too, please!”

Hannibal bit his neck harshly, forcing another moan out of the singer. “And the whole drive here, havin’ you pressed agains’ me was torture. I wanted to pull over and bend you over my bike, show you a  _ really _ good time.”

2D whined, hearing the exact things he’d been thinking about these long weeks said back to him. Hannibal moved from his neck to his collarbone, never biting hard enough to be too much. “I wanted t’fuck you the first time I saw you too.”

“Well, better late than never, righ’?” Hannibal joked, popping the button on Stu’s trousers and reaching inside. A moment passed where 2D thought he might cum without being touched, but he held on as Hannibal rummaged about, eventually grabbing his cock. It was electric. 

“A-ah!” he whined, bucking his hips against Hannibal’s grip. He didn’t get very far because Hannibal was keeping him pinned down with the weight of his body. So he was left stuck, completely at the other’s mercy as he stroked slow and steady. “Come’on, go faster!”

“Be patient, Stu. It’s gonna take a while to get you ready and I don’t like to be rushed,” Hannibal warned, giving 2D’s dick a hard squeeze, then let go. He leaned over the bedside and grabbed his discarded pants, pulling out a tube of lube from the pocket. “You’re lucky I came prepared.” 

Stu rolled his eyes but kept still, not wanting to delay things any further. “You gonna undress me then?” He lifted his hands above his head, forcing his shirt to ride up and expose more of his stomach. Hannibal’s eyes narrowed in on that strip of skin, running fingers over it. 

“Fine, lift those hips for me pretty boy,” Hannibal instructed, pulling his own shirt over his head and then grabbing Stu’s trousers. 2D tried to help Hannibal wiggle them down and off, but it didn’t seem like the older man needed much help. The singer’s shirt was next, and soon they were both naked in the opulent bed, sizing each other up. 

“Holy fuck,” Stuart breathed, letting his hand roam over chiselled muscles and warm skin. “You’re like a dream come true, Han.”

“You’re not too bad yourself. Very handsome in fact,” Hannibal drawled, settling his body over the singer’s again and making him gasp at the close contact. “So how d’you want to do this?”

2D wiggled in pleasure. Hannibal was so good to him, so much more polite and caring than any of the groupies he usually slept with. “If you don’t fuck me this instant, I’m not gonna go on any more dates with you.”

“Well, we can’t have that,” Hannibal laughed, grabbing the lube again and pouring some on his fingers. “You’ve done this before, yeah?”

With a dramatic roll of his eyes, Stu rolled over onto his front and propped up his arse. “Yes, I’ve done this before. Rock star, remember?”

“Good.” Hannibal smirked, then stroked his un-lubed fingers over Stu’s arse and thighs. “Then we can get righ’ to it.” And then he was pressing a slick finger in fully. 2D yelped, then quickly cut himself off with a moan. 

“More~” he begged, jutting his hips back to make Hannibal go faster. He wasn’t lying, he had done this before, more than a few times and the slow pace was extremely frustrating. The need to be filled and stretched was too strong, and he whined with the intensity of it. “Please, more!”

“Shhh,” Hannibal soothed, adding another finger. “I know you want it baby but trust me, you’re gonna want to be loosened up before you take me.”

2D huffed, glaring back over his shoulder. “M’not a virgin Han, jus’ do it!”

But Hannibal continued to stretch him, adding a third, and then a fourth all without hitting the spot 2D really wanted him to. Even so, his cock was still hard and dripping against his belly, little noises of pleasure escaping his lips with each rocking motion. 

“Han, Hannibal,  _ please _ \--!” He was aching for it, had been for the last few weeks in between when they’d last seen each other. It has been all he could think about alone in his bed at night and now it was so close he could taste it. To have it dangled in front of him was torture. 

“Are you sure baby? I know you want it but it might hurt a little…” Hannibal didn’t sound as worried as his words made him seem. When Stu nodded and whined again he removed his fingers with a lewd pop and replaced them with the tip of his dick. “Take a deep breath for me bluebird.”

It did hurt, more than expected but less than an unbearable amount. It was kind of pleasant, actually, the all-encompassing  _ stretching _ and  _ filling _ . Stuart had to bite back a groan of pleasure-pain as Hannibal eased in, refusing to let himself crumble and fall into the bedsheets. 

“OK?” Hannibal asked, his voice strained and slightly shaky. “Fuck you feel--”

“S’good,” Stu slurred, willing his knees to hold up. “You’re big.”

Hannibal laughed and Stu could feel it inside him. “You don’t say? Do you want me to move?”

“If you don’t I’m gonna scream.”

And so Hannibal did, thrusting slowly and steadily. Never pulling out more than halfway before pushing back in with a smooth and slick precision. It didn’t matter if he aimed for Stu’s prostate, because he was so big he hit it anyway. 2D was sure that if Hannibal so much as brushed his prick he’d go off like a firework. 

“Oh, oh, oh!” 2D cried, biting his own arm to suppress the embarrassing noises escaping him. Hannibal was fucking him firmly now, rocking into his body with enough force to jolt him towards the gaudy headboard. "Feels so good-- you're so good!"

Hannibal groaned himself and leaned down, his body totally covering Stu's and the singer hadn't thought it could feel better but it did. "You're taking me so well, baby. I'm gonna ruin you."

"Mmm, stretch me out, make me no good for anyone else's cock," Stu grunted, finally letting his arms give out and pressing his face into the soft pillows. "Don't want anyone else's but yours."

"I'm not gonna argue with that. Flip over babe, I wanna see what you look like while I fuck you open," Hannibal murmured, biting the singer's shoulder hard before pulling out. 2D immediately flipped over, letting his legs fall open and wanting. He took his dick in hand and stroked it, writhing on the bed and hoped he looked enticing enough to get the other to hurry up. 

“I’m so close Hanni.” Hannibal’s eyes flashed and in an instant, he was over Stu again, his forearms bracketing the singer’s head, their hips flush. The slap of skin against skin picked up in speed and intensity as Hannibal began to really give it to the singer. 2D cried out at every thrust, bracing his hands against the headboard to avoid banging his head. “Fuck--fuck me--!”

“Beautiful,” Hannibal breathed. He nosed in close to the singer’s neck, right under his ear. “All for me…”

2D twisted and moaned, though Hannibal’s large hands on his waist kept him pinned. “Y-yes, yes, oh--fu-fuck!” he screamed, feeling himself reach his peak, shooting past it into a mind-numbing, pleasure-filled ecstasy. It went on and on, extended by the feeling of Hannibal’s cock swelling then releasing inside him. He barely even noticed the desperate sounds he was making or the way Hannibal’s teeth had found purchase in the soft skin of his neck. 

They both wound down, hips slowing and hearts pounding. Hannibal eventually kissed the raw, red marks he’d left behind on Stu’s neck, and Stu smoothed his hands over the scratch marks on Hannibal’s back. Eventually, their breathing settled and Hannibal rolled off of 2D, landing on his back amongst the messy pillows and sheets. 

“Well,” Hannibal sighed, reached over the side of the bed for his trousers and the pack of cigarettes in the pocket. He lit one to hand to 2D, then one for himself, relaxing back against the headboard while Stu continued to gather himself. 

“Holy shit,” 2D breathed, sucking down smoke like it was air. “I don’t think I can move my legs.”

“Yeah, that happens sometimes.” Hannibal sounded far too pleased with himself and 2D huffed. “You’re not to sore, are you?”

Stu did a mental once over, then smiled. “Feels nice. Achey, but the good kind.” Hannibal smiled as well, turning on his side and draping an arm over 2D’s trim waist to brush his fingers along his side. The singer hummed happily as he swivelled his head, asking for a kiss. Hannibal obliged. 

“So, good first date?” he asked once Stu had pulled back to take another drag. He sounded softer and more relaxed than he’d been all day. Maybe 2D hadn’t been the only one who was nervous. 

“Very good,”  he answered, raising an eyebrow. “So good that maybe we should go on another one tomorrow.”

Hannibal chuckled, pulling Stu closer so they were really cuddling. It was too early to go to bed, but neither of them felt like getting up. “Why wait? We could order room service and watch somethin’ on that gigantic TV we passed.”

“Oooh, d’you like zombie films?” 2D began to wiggle with excitement, thinking about getting to cuddle Hannibal on the sofa while eating fancy food. Like  _ real _ chicken fingers. 

“I don’t mind them, especially not if it means watchin’ them with you.” 2D wanted to roll his eyes at the sappy line, but he was too happy. It had been a long time since he’d felt this type of happiness, the kind you get when you’re warm and content and loved. 

“Me too. Well, uh, I always like zombie films but I’d like to watch them with you even more. But maybe in a little while.” He glanced up at Hannibal to find the older looking down at him, listening intently. “I’d kinda like to stay like this…”

“You won’t hear me arguin’,” Hannibal rumbled, nuzzling deeper into 2D’s hair.  Glad that they agreed, Stu got into a more comfortable position--one touching as much of Hannibal as possible--and closed his eyes. He was already trying to think of things they could do tomorrow, things that mostly involved not leaving the hotel room, or even the bed. 


End file.
